


Is That Alright?

by lunavens



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: 8x05 hehe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunavens/pseuds/lunavens
Summary: I wrote this before 8x05 aired. Perhaps my mind is powerful.





	Is That Alright?

Bright blonde curls is the first thing the supreme notices, followed by a pair of cloudy blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. _Is this real? Is_ she _real?_

Cordelia turns to Michael, expecting him to take the Cajun away from her. To do something so cruel that would forever shatter Cordelia’s heart beyond repair. Losing her once was hard enough, she just knows she wouldn’t survive it again. Instead, she finds a smirk full of pride on his face.

“You can thank me later. For now, I will leave you two be,” the warlock says. When the sound of his shoes against the floor fades, Cordelia thinks she’s brave enough to look back up.

She finally raises her head to observe those blue eyes. _God,_ how she forgot the effect they had on her. So many times had the witch got lost in a haze. This time was no different. The only difference was the tears have now made their way down Misty’s rosy cheeks.

The tears snap Cordelia from her trance as realization replaces shock. The supreme doesn’t hesitate to stride over to the Cajun who seems to have difficulty standing up.

Cordelia crosses the distance and she suddenly stops, not knowing how to further approach the witch. _Is Misty furious with her?_ _Does she despise her?_ She feels a wave of shame wash over her. Her own tears begin to form, but _fuck,_ she’s supposed to be strong for Misty. _Her_ Misty Day, who is suddenly back from Hell.

Failures be damned, the supreme lifts her hands to cup Misty’s damp cheeks. Cordelia wipes away those tears with shaky hands and just _stares._ Her focus moves from Misty’s eyes to her lips, then her nose, even new creases that weren’t present four years ago.

“Delia,” Misty whispers. She leans into the blonde’s trembling palms and closes her eyes. The older woman moves her hands from Misty’s face to around her neck and pulls her in. Next thing she knows, Cordelia is sitting on the floor with Misty’s arms encircled around her waist as her head buries in her chest.

A tearful giggle escapes her chest because she can’t believe this is happening. All she sees is Stevie Nicks’ scarf and a bundle of blonde hair that she can’t help but run her fingers through. They stay like that for awhile. It could have been minutes or hours, neither of them cared.

Misty is the one who breaks their position, retracting from Cordelia’s chest and pressing her forehead to the older woman’s.

“Misty, I- I understand if you hate me. But I just want you to know that I’m so, _so_ sorry,” Cordelia’s voice cracks. _Sorry_ can’t even begin to explain how the supreme truly felt about her many failed attempts to bring Misty back. It’s simply humiliating that she couldn’t help the one person she cares most about.

Whenever she was unsuccessful, Cordelia fell into a depression that no witch could save her from. The supreme spent days in the garden, surrounding herself with Misty. Cordelia would listen to Fleetwood Mac and twirl until she became nauseous. She slept in the Cajun’s bed whenever a nightmare haunted her. She visited Misty’s swamp every anniversary that the blonde disappeared from her hold.

And now she’s back in Cordelia’s grasp. “I could never hate you, silly. Not in any amount of years.”


End file.
